


Spilt Milk

by K_Hanna_Korossy



Category: The Real Ghostbusters
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 12:47:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5785852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_Hanna_Korossy/pseuds/K_Hanna_Korossy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Winston's bad night is eased by a round of sharing stories with the guys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spilt Milk

 

First published in  _Revenants and Roses 3_ (1998)

 

Winston made a conscious effort to turn the key quietly in the front door. It was late night and he had no desire to wake any of his friends, let alone face them and try to pretend as though nothing was wrong. He really didn't want to face anyone _indefinitely_ , but that wasn't an option so at least he was hoping for a night to pull himself together. One night to fix a badly bruised heart. He shook his head tiredly. Somehow he doubted that would do it.

The bottom floor was dark and silent and Winston snuck past Janine's desk to the stairs, treading lightly despite the incredible weariness he felt. Years of experience told him which spots to avoid on the creaky stairs and he began to shed his clothes as he climbed, shrugging out his jacket and jerking his tie loose.

At the top of the staircase he paused, listening. No, it truly seemed everyone was asleep and inclined to stay so. Even Slimer was nowhere in sight, probably sleeping above Peter's bed. But somehow Winston couldn't make himself go upstairs. The idea of crawling into bed was enticing, but the weariness he felt was more in his soul than his body. He bit off a sigh as he turned toward the kitchen instead.

Slimer had been out raiding trash cans during dinner so there was an unusual assortment of leftovers to choose from in the fridge, but the idea of food was singularly unappealing. For a moment, Winston contemplated hitting the liquor cabinet, but that would hardly help, either. Instead he settled for a glass of milk, quietly retrieving a glass from the cupboard and filling it before he flopped down into a chair to stare at it.

Winston had really begun to think she was the one. Sandra hadn't been his dream love, but she was a warm, intelligent, serious person whose company Winston had grown to truly value. She was real in a way that so many of the women he'd dated before hadn't been, a person who had faults but who was still very much worth the occasional rough spots. A woman he might've been able to bring into both his blood family and his family of choice and who would've fit in both places. Someone with whom to share his life.

Someone who had said good-bye to him because she didn't feel they were right for each other. Winston grimaced painfully at the thought.

"Yeah, you can't turn your back on the milk for a minute, can you. I sometimes come down here in the middle of the night myself to keep an eye on the stuff."

The unexpected voice from the doorway made Winston start and look up at the speaker, but he wasn't at all surprised to see who it was.

"Sorry, Pete, did I wake you?" His eyes strayed back to the glass, watching the the liquid swirl as he aimlessly fidgeted with the glass.

"Nah," the psychologist straightened, watching him with alert eyes despite the rumpled hair and pajamas that spoke of having recently woken. "Just thought I'd come join you in watching the milk."

Winston couldn't help cracking a grin at that. He watched with halfhearted interest as his friend retrieved a second glass and filled it with milk, settling into the chair next to Winston.

"You know, I'm usually the one who comes tiptoeing in long after bedtime," Peter observed conversationally, taking a sip before he set the glass down to gaze at Winston.

Winston sighed. He knew what Peter was doing and he appreciated it, but he really wasn't in the mood to get it off his chest and work it out with their resident psychologist. The ache was still too fresh. "Look, Peter, I understand–"

"What're you guys doing down here?"

Both men glanced up. Ray's expression was sleepy and he was yawning, but it did nothing to hide the curiosity in his tone.

"I'm helping Winston watch the milk," Peter offered brightly.

Ray stared at him for a moment as if he weren't sure he'd heard correctly, then he smiled. "That sounds fun. Can I do it, too?"

"Sure, Tex, pull up a chair and I'll get you your own glass," Peter cheerfully waved the younger man to Winston's other side and rose to get a third cup, pouring it full with a flourish before handing it to Ray.

"Thanks, Peter." Stantz eyed it and them uncertainly for a moment before shrugging and draining half the glass.

"Now there's an idea," Peter exclaimed, jabbing Winston in the side. "Why didn't we think of drinking it?"

Winston sighed and shook his head with longsuffering.

"Is everything all right?"

The new voice didn't seem to surprise anyone, least of all Peter, who immediately waved the fourth member of the team in. "Join the party, Egon," he got up automatically to get another glass.

"Yeah, we're watching the milk," Ray added mischievously.

"Indeed?" Egon's eyebrow rose as he studied the glass Peter reached out to him. "Is there any reason why we are doing so?"

"Ask Winston here, he started it," Peter nodded toward the black man.

That drew both Ray and Egon's attention. Winston could see them noting his dress and melancholy air.

"Gee, Winston, you just got in?" Ray asked.

"Yeah." He wasn't checking to make sure but he could feel three pairs of eyes watching him expectantly. He sighed. Well, it was bound to come out sooner or later. "Sandra broke up with me."

He'd been dreading the good-humored teasing the guys usually dealt in or, even worse, pity, but neither was forthcoming.

"Why?" was all Peter quietly asked.

A bit sheepishly he glanced up at Venkman to find the psychologist was watching him with a mixture of understanding and sympathy. Winston felt himself relax just a little; he should've known better. Suddenly it wasn't quite so hard to talk about it. "She said we weren't right for each other," he smiled humorlessly and shrugged.

"She seemed like an exceptional person, Winston. I'm sorry it didn't work out." That was Egon. It never ceased to amaze Winston that a person who could get so absentminded that he even forgot to eat could also be so perceptive when he tried.

"She was nice--I was really falling for her," he stumbled, looking at each of his friends in turn. "I was even thinking maybe, you know, she was..."

"...Ms. Right?" Peter filled in. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Things seem to be going great, you even start making plans, and you don't see it coming until she hits you with it." The voice held a little too much understanding and Winston could see Egon turn a thoughtful, knowing gaze on the brunet.

Winston nodded at Peter's words. "Yeah. I had no idea she felt like that."

"Did she say why?" Ray asked, his voice just as concerned as his expression. He looked like he felt as bad as Winston did, and being Ray, he probably did. Winston couldn't understand how people like Stantz survived in a world so harsh, but his friend's warmth melted a little of his chill.

He hesitated to answer, studying the milk anew. If there was anyone he could share this with, it was these guys. It wasn't like there was much they hadn't seen or didn't know about him anymore. But he still felt utterly exposed as he finally mumbled, "She said she wasn't ready to get married and start a family like I wanted to."

There was a moment's silence, then Peter's hand settled on his shoulder. "Not the settling down kind, huh?" he asked lightly. "My story's just the opposite. Hey, Egon, you remember Ann Marshall at Columbia?"

"Yes, Peter," Egon said so warily, Winston glanced up, just in time to catch the odd expression with which the physicist was watching Venkman.

Peter had seen it, too and seemed to understand it as he flashed the blond a grateful smile before turning back to Winston. But his continued light tone didn't match the serious look in his eyes. "Ann was prom queen and class valedictorian in her high school so, naturally, being the star of the Columbia football team," he pretended to not hear Ray's amused snort, "I had to ask her out. And of course she was honored and immediately accepted."

This time Egon made a faint choking sound. Winston almost smiled despite himself but kept his attention on Peter, who ignored the skeptics with his own particular brand of dignity. But his tone grew more thoughtful.

"She was really something, though, Winston. She was the first person I really fell in love with, not just lust. She was smart and funny and loved to do all the stupid things I did, along with all this other wonderful stuff she was really good at. And she could sing like..." his hand finally left Winston's shoulder as it waved vaguely in the air and he trailed off, caught up in the memory.

"I don't remember her, Peter. What happened?" Ray finally asked when it seemed the psychologist wasn't going to continue on his own.

Peter snapped out of it, glancing around the table in a moment of self-consciousness before shrugging as Winston had. "It was over before you came along, Ray. She dumped me. She said I was too superficial and she wanted someone she could be serious with, too, maybe make a life with." It was his turn to find the milk fascinating, both out of pain of memory and embarrassment at his unusual candor.

"Oh, Peter," was all Ray said consolingly, and Egon grasped his near arm, adding, "Ann was _not_ the most insightful person I'd ever met, Peter." Winston just shook his head. Peter was in many ways his father's son, and he'd been taught well how to keep his real feelings covered up. But if the lady couldn't see Peter's depth past his bluster, she must've been more than a little superficial herself.

A moment later, the psychologist seemed to have shrugged it off. "Hey," he grinned suddenly, catching Winston's eye. "I can be as serious as the next guy. Just last week I talked Egon into going to see that new exhibit at the Met."

Egon grimaced. "Neglecting to tell me until we got there that the exhibit was entitled 'The Female Nude in Baroque and Renaissance Art'. Somehow I doubt that culture was what was on your mind, Peter." But Winston saw him squeeze the younger man's arm before withdrawing his hand.

"I thought it was moving," Peter answered irrepressibly, his grin widening at the look Egon gave him.

Companionable silence fell over the table for a few moments as everyone gazed at the glasses of milk on the table before them. Then Ray hesitantly broke the silence. "It took me a lot of years before I got up enough courage to ask Elaine Ferman out. I always had...well, kinda a crush on her." His cheeks flamed pink.

Peter's smile was gentle this time. "Did she say yes?" he prompted.

"Yes."

"An-nd?" Peter wheedled.

Ray was still blushing but he gamely answered, "We had a lot of fun. She liked monster movies, too, and we spent a lot of time at the theatre or just taking walks and talking. She was the first person I met who didn't think I was weird."

And probably the first person who believed in him once his parents were gone, Winston silently added. Having been supported and encouraged all his life, the oldest Ghostbuster could only imagine what a big difference one person's belief had made to a sensitive young Ray.

"She still seemed rather fond of you when we were in Morrisville last year," Egon observed.

"Well, we never had a falling out exactly." Ray hesitated.

"What exactly did you have?" Winston asked gently.

"Less than I thought, I guess," Ray sighed. "In tenth grade, George Barton asked her out and before I knew it, they were going steady. But Elaine said I'd always be like a brother to her." His cheeks, which had finally begun to lose their pink, blushed brightly again.

All three of his friends winced. "Oh jeez, the old 'we'll always be friends' bit," Peter moaned. "That's probably the worst. It was her loss, Ray. I think she realized her mistake when we were there."

"It's not that, Peter," Ray said softly. "It just felt then like it was one more thing I couldn't do right. I couldn't even show a girl I liked her more than just as a friend." His voice had dropped and he wasn't looking at them any longer, instead playing with his half-full glass, nearly upsetting it.

Egon's long fingers steadied the cup and Ray's nervous hands with one touch. " _Just_ a friend, Raymond? Real friendship is more valuable than a passing infatuation, and high school students are notoriously fickle in their interests. I think Elaine was quite fortunate to have a friend like you. Peter was right, her failure to see you as more was her nearsightedness, not a failing on your part." Peter grinned in delight at the affirmation while Egon deliberately ignored him.

Ray seemed a little abashed by Egon's unusually blunt praise but he glowed at the words.

"Yeah, Ray," Peter added. "I bet she doesn't call that Barton character every couple of weeks like she does you, either. She just didn't know when she had a good thing going."

Ray smiled, gratitude shining clearly out of the brown eyes that rarely hid anything. "Thanks, guys, but I'm okay with it now. Well, mostly. It was just a little hard then."

Which, Winston confirmed with a silent shared glance among the other two, was an understatement. But Ray had come a long way since he'd found his three friends, as had all of them. His smile, absent of any shadows, confirmed it.

With his usual knack for knowing when to change the mood, Peter turned to Egon and said brightly, "So, Spengs, what's your hard luck story?"

Egon straightened in his chair to look down at his nose at the psychologist. "It so happens, Peter, that I have no 'hard luck story', as you put it." His tone was a little too haughty, Winston noticed, and he saw Ray frown at the physicist. Spengler knew he wasn't fooling anyone in this group, too, and slowly unbent a little. "Well, there was one person at Columbia that I was interested in, a chemistry student by the name of Emily McDermott." Peter's eyes narrowed for a moment with recognition but no one but Winston seemed to catch it, Egon watching the milk and Ray watching Egon. "She was extremely bright and I enjoyed her company a great deal. But we were never in a romantic relationship so I didn't ever have to face her rejection."

"Did you ever ask her out, Egon?" Ray asked sincerely.

"Yeah, ever invite the lady over to your place to make some chemistry of your own?" Peter added mischievously.

The teasing made Egon look up and a little dryness crept back into his voice. "Hardly. That's more your style, Peter." The glimmer of satisfaction in Venkman's expression as he sat back told that he'd gotten the response he'd wanted.   Egon hesitated, meeting Winston's gaze this time. "But perhaps I should have asked her out to the opera or to see a play. I believe we would have both enjoyed it. I...didn't know what to say, though, and so I never spoke up. I must admit, I have some regret that I didn't."

"She could have asked you, too, Egon," Ray declared stoutly. The younger man looked up to the physicist in many ways, and his eyes were wide with the glimpse of a more hesitant side of Egon than he usually saw. But it didn't change a thing and he was quick to defend his friend. "Girls were asking guys out a lot by that time. Maybe she wasn't ready for it, either."

"That's true, Egon," Peter nodded. "If Emily had felt strongly enough about it, she could've spoken up."

"I didn't," Egon answered with some chagrin.

Probably not in any small part because of his own ingrained stoicism, Winston thought. The elder Dr. Spengler had not been one to encourage warmth and openness as he raised his son, either. "Yeah," he quickly cut in before Peter answered, "but if neither of you made a move, maybe that's your answer there. That wasn't your fault, just means neither of you were ready. Happens to everyone, m'man."

"Besides, can you imagine two scientists in love?" Peter asked, shivering elaborately at the thought. "They'd probably forget to buy food and pay the rent. A healthy relationship needs balance. That's why opposites attract."

"Like intelligent women and you, Peter?" Egon asked, deadpan.

Peter made a face at him.

Winston suddenly grinned. Dragging out and sharing painful moments of their past had to have been difficult for all three of his partners, but they had willingly done it for him out of support and friendship. But something else none of them had banked on had also been revealed. Sorrows shared were eased. The same trust that had led to the late night confessions was also responsible for the healing of those old hurts and mutual strengthening in face of new ones. The break-up with Sandra still stung, but the support of friends who cared and sympathized made it much easier to bear. Maybe none of them had found their perfect match yet, or even might in the near future. But three people to share one's life with was no small gift.

He picked up his glass of milk. "You know, guys, I think we've been watching this milk long enough. What do you say we call it a night?" He drained the glass in one motion before plunking it back down on the table.

Ray smiled at him and Egon nodded his understanding at once. Peter watched Winston for a moment longer, gauging his mood, before grinning. "Leaving the world safe once more from the threat of diabolical dairy products," he announced. "It's a dirty job but somebody's gotta do it." The psychologist polished off his own glass, as did the other two, Egon eyeing his own drink briefly before doing so.

Winston gave them all a grateful glance as he stood, feeling better than he could've imagined an hour before, and his three friends all grinned back at him. Family indeed. And when the right person came along for each one, they'd just widen the circle a little. Suddenly feeling tired and ready to sleep, Winston led the way upstairs with Ray trailing closely behind. Behind him, he could hear Egon's puzzled voice quietly ask Peter, "I still don't understand. Why were you all worried about the stability of the milk? Were there any readings indicating possible cause for concern?"

Peter's seriously answered _sotto voce_ , "Don't worry, I'll explain it all to you in the morning, Spengs."

Winston was still smiling as he climbed into bed.

The End


End file.
